


I Can Feel the Storm Inside You

by Effyeahzimbits



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Big Bang, M/M, holsom, zimbits - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-15
Updated: 2019-11-15
Packaged: 2021-01-31 06:16:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21441583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Effyeahzimbits/pseuds/Effyeahzimbits
Summary: Life is going good for Eric Bittle. It's summer, he has an exciting new job with the Providence Falconers, he's in a club celebrating with his friends, and he currently has a Canadian Adonis grinding up against his ass. Life is good.Until said Canadian Adonis flees the morning after some mind-blowing sex, leaving behind a rubbish note. Bitty tries hard to forget about him and his huge, pert ass and focus on his new job, but then Canadian Adonis and the Falc's grumpy, anti-social captain turn out to be one and the same. And Bitty really couldn't forget about that huge, pert ass.Pairings: Zimbits, mild HolsomWarnings: Swearing, m/m sexWritten for the Check, Please! Big Bang event and features incredible art by @pipermclean / @novva.
Relationships: Adam "Holster" Birkholtz/Justin "Ransom" Oluransi, Eric "Bitty" Bittle/Jack Zimmermann
Comments: 69
Kudos: 649
Collections: OMGCP Big Bang 2019





	I Can Feel the Storm Inside You

I Can Feel the Storm Inside You  


Bitty pulled a face at his reflection in the speckled mirror and reached up to tug his blonde hair yet again. It wasn’t falling quite right but it would have to do. He’d recently had it cut, and he could never replicate the way his barber had styled it. Figuring the haphazard strands were as good as they were going to get, he let his hand drop and scrutinised the rest of his appearance.

He was looking really fucking good, even if he did say so himself. His skin was having a clean day and the usual dark circles underneath his eyes that came with many too-early mornings had vanished. The bright, floral tank top and jean shorts he was wearing were maybe a little _too _bold for the bar he was heading to, but he really couldn’t care less. Especially when he could see the building definition of his biceps. It was nice to be doing some serious athletic training again.

He turned from the mirror and sat on the bed to toe on his new, sleek sneakers. They had been a congratulatory present to himself, though they were probably a little more expensive than he could afford. It had been scary, handing in his notice at the bakery, but he really couldn’t turn down this new job offer. He’d had a week to relax after leaving, and honestly, he already felt much better. He’d been everything at that place. Baker. Chef. Waiter. Administrator. Sales rep. Social media executive. Cleaner. And he just couldn’t do it any longer. It had made him hate baking, and the day he realised that was the day he hung up his corporate apron.

It didn’t take too long for the passion to return, thankfully.

Tonight was to be a celebration. The new role was regular hours, better money and a stone’s throwaway from his tiny studio apartment. And it was something he loved to do and allowed him to keep baking completely separate from work. He was enthusiastic to get started on Monday, but right now he was more excited to go out on the town with his friends.

It had been far too long since he’d seen them, and he was sure they all had plenty to tell him. So, he got to his feet and shoved his wallet into his back pocket as he cast another final glance over himself. After one last spritz of cologne, he headed out into the sunshine, careful to lock the door behind him.

He loved summer. Providence was never as hot as Madison, but he still enjoyed the heat. He loved wearing shorts all day and drinking iced coffee and hanging out in beer gardens until it grew dark. It had been so good spending the balmy days away from blistering hot ovens for the first time since he left college two years ago. It was late August now and the weather showed no signs of cooling.

The walk to the bar took him through a small but well-kept park. It was still busy thanks to the evening sun, and Bitty people watched as he strolled. There were plenty of families, their children screaming gleefully and tearing up the lush grass as they raced around. There were a few couples too, hand in hand as they smooched between the pink and purple sweet peas and begonias. Bitty didn’t pay them much attention. His last break up hadn’t been bitter per se, but it still played on his mind from time to time.

Two men caught his eye. He thought they were another couple at first. One of them was average build with a shaggy mop of auburn hair that contrasted against his perfectly groomed, if a little bushy, moustache. He had his arm slung around the other man, chattering enthusiastically about something that clearly didn’t impress his partner.

Said partner was probably the most handsome man Bitty had ever seen. He was tall, over six feet, with broad shoulders and a tiny waist. He was definitely an athlete, or at least a keen gym-goer, if those bulging biceps and tight pecs were anything to go by. Bitty couldn’t stop his eyes from drifting to the man’s ass, and, dear lord, it could stop traffic.

His face was just as impressive. He had a chiselled jaw and strong, high cheekbones, just like all the romantic movie leads. He was exactly Bitty’s type, right down to the messy dark hair, but it was his eyes that really made Bitty’s jaw drop. They were a bright, piercing blue, the kind of colour Bitty could easily fantasise about getting lost in.

But then the pair disappeared in another direction and Bitty’s little daydream quickly evaporated before it even really got going. He shook his head clear and started walking a little faster. He wouldn’t mind hooking up tonight. He wouldn’t go out of his way to proposition anyone, but if a cute guy happened to cross his path, he wouldn’t say no. It wasn’t something he usually did, but tonight he just felt like getting laid.

It only took him another few minutes to reach the bar and it already looked busy. He squeezed through the bodies, looking around for his friends. The place was stuffy, and he could feel the sweat starting to trickle down the small of his back. Hoping his face wasn’t too red, he meandered his way towards the bar.

“Hey, Bits!”

Bitty turned in the direction of the voice and grinned when he spotted the source. Holster was easily head and shoulders above most of the people around him and waved so enthusiastically his beer was in danger of slopping down his front. Beside him was his partner Ransom, who was equally as cheerful. They looked like a pair of excited puppies about to go on their first walk.

It wasn’t until he got closer did Bitty see Lardo, the final member of their small group. Even perched on a barstool she disappeared among the crowd thronging around the counter. Bitty didn’t even get chance to say hi before he was dragged against Holster’s chest and had the life squeezed out of him.

“Yes, it’s nice to see you too, Holtsy,” Bitty laughed, his words muffled against the fabric of Holster’s Hawaiian shirt.

“It’s been forever!” Ransom cried mournfully, pulling Bitty into his arms too.

Bitty choked on a mouthful of Axe and Ransom took that as a noise of agreement. When Bitty could finally pull back and breathe in the fresh air, Lardo grinned and nudged a cool bottle of beer towards him. Bitty took it with thanks and eagerly raised it to his thirsty mouth. The first, long pull was like liquid ice down his throat and it was just what he needed.

The first ten minutes of talk was the usual ‘hey, how you doing? What’s up?’ and Bitty soon relaxed into it, practically glowing as he chatted a mile a minute. He leaned on the bar as he spoke, in what he hoped was the epitome of suave and cool. He listened to Ransom talk about his and Holster’s dull week at work with only half an ear. He was already scanning the place for potential hook ups. Another thing he liked about summer? Men started wearing vests and tank tops. He was in bicep and hairy chest heaven.

“Anyway,” Holster said, his loud voice interrupting Bitty’s thoughts. “Tell us about this new job, Bits.”

“Oh, it’s with the Falconers,” Bitty said casually.

For a moment, all three of them just stared at him as their brains processed the information. Then all of a sudden, they broke into a series of hollers with many incredulous swear words and exclamations. Holster slapped his back so hard he nearly careened into some poor, unsuspecting bystander.

“The _Falcs_? Are you shitting me?!”

“No!” Bitty laughed, delighting in their reactions. “I’m going to be a social media executive. I applied on a whim last month and had an interview a couple of weeks ago. I couldn’t believe it when they offered me the job.” 

“Bits, that is fucking rad!” Holster cried, sweeping him into another bone-crushing hug. “You must be so stoked! When do you start?”

“Monday,” Bitty gasped once he’d been released. He was sure his face was going to split with how much he was grinning. “I’m really excited. I’ve barely kept up with hockey since graduating though. I don’t even know who’s on the roster anymore.”

He’d adored hockey at school and had often caught games in between classes and figure skating. It was how he’d met his friends too – Ransom and Holster had played on the team and Lardo had been their manager. But when he’d graduated from Samwell, the bakery had eaten up every moment of his time. Weekends were always busiest, leaving him no chance of attending any games with their local team, the Providence Falconers. He’d briefly entertained the idea of joining a beer league with Holster and Ransom, but for the moment had preferred taking up figure skating again instead. He was looking forward to getting involved with hockey again.

“Dude, I’ll give you a very detailed report,” Ransom said sincerely. “Their team is gonna be off the charts this season. They traded in this guy from Montreal last year and fuck me, his scoring history is insane. And don’t get me started on Mashkov’s latest run.”

Bitty already knew everything about Alexei Mashkov. Ransom lived and breathed the Russian defenceman, much to Holster’s annoyance.

“Sure, Rans,” Bitty laughed. “I expect the Excel spreadsheet to be sat in my inbox by Monday morning.”

Knowing Ransom, said Excel report would probably already be completed and would be waiting for Bitty’s undivided attention by the time he got home that night.

They spent a couple of hours catching up some more while the bar continued to fill up around them. Bitty felt buzzed and relaxed after the few beers he’d had and was keen to start dancing and burning off some energy. The others agreed and together they waded through the sticky crowd to get outside. The sky had started to darkle, the air just a touch cooler and definitely welcome. They strolled down the street, laughing loudly at a story Lardo was telling them while perched on Holster’s shoulders. Ransom scooped Bitty up with ease and before he knew what was happening, they were racing the other two, all four of them screeching as they sprinted down the pavement and weaved in and out of bewildered passers-by.

They rounded the corner and skidded to a halt just at the end of the line to their usual club. It wasn’t too long at this time of night, and they pleasantly chirped one another as they waited, Lardo and Bitty with their feet safely planted on the floor. The music inside was loud enough for them to hear and Bitty could feel the bass vibrating his chest. He couldn’t wait to get inside and melt all over some handsome stranger in the semi-darkness. His blood was practically singing for it.

A drag queen by the name of Dave stamped their hands and winked at them when they paid their entry, her painted face was full of smiles and flirty insults flew from her tongue. It was already sweltering inside from the pulsating lights, so they headed straight to the bar for drinks. The beer was ditched in favour of cocktails, the fancier the better, and it wasn’t long before Holster was crooning away to a pop anthem with a purple drinks umbrella behind his ear and performing his best dad dance in the middle of the floor. Shots followed, then yet more cocktails and yet more shots, until all four of them were tipsy enough to be dancing wildly without a care in the world.

The later the hour, the more people began to fill up the floor. Bitty wasn’t exactly sure when but at some point, the music had switched to a heavy dance beat and not only could he feel the bass in his chest, but he could feel it deep in his bones too. His vest was sticking to his back and there was a sprinkling of sweat across his forehead, but he was past caring. Everyone else was just as hot and sticky. To his left Holster and Ransom were making out, having clearly forgotten anyone else was even in the building. Lardo always seemed to attract attention, so it was no surprise that she was surrounded by a bunch of artsy looking people. Deciding it was time to look for some action of his own, Bitty scanned the room.

The dancefloor was full of people grinding against each other, opposite gender, same gender and every gender in between. It was difficult to see much when he was stuck in the middle of the masses, so he squeezed his way back towards the bar. There were no stools free, so he wedged himself between two people and propped his elbow on the counter, patiently waiting his turn.

The club itself wasn’t particularly fancy. The décor was a little tired and his feet stuck to the floor a little bit and the booze wasn’t great quality, but it was the atmosphere he loved. It was a safe place where he could come and let loose and not be judged for a single thing. Everyone was welcome and staff were always pleasant and quickly stamped out any intolerance. It was almost like a little family, and Bitty and his friends came by often enough that they were well-known. 

Bitty looked around as he waited, seeing if there were any cute guys that caught his eye. He spotted a couple of men across the dancefloor who smiled at him, but his heart didn’t skip a beat when he saw them. His gaze swivelled back the other way, and he almost jumped when he realised the guy perched on the stool next to him was watching him. Bitty opened his mouth to comment, but then suddenly realised it was the handsome, unimpressed guy he’d seen walking through the park with his partner. He shouldn’t have been surprised – if they were a gay couple then this was the hottest place to be. The man was looking at him with a bemused expression, as if trying to figure out what he was doing.

“Didn’t your mama ever teach you it’s rude to stare?” Bitty asked, exaggerating his accent just slightly. He quirked an eyebrow at him, pleased when the man’s cheeks darkened just a little bit. Lord, he was pretty.

“Sorry,” the stranger replied, glancing away only briefly before holding his eyes again. He hesitated a moment, seemingly warring with himself. “You’re just extremely attractive.”

“Oh, well in that case, thank you very much sugar,” Bitty purred, turning his body towards him.

The man’s partner was nowhere in sight, and there was only one drink in front of him. Bitty decided to throw caution to the wind and stepped a little closer. It was difficult to hear him over the music, so he had no choice but to lean in close. Bitty couldn’t quite place his accent, but it was intoxicating. He even smelled amazing too. Bitty couldn’t resist a smile. There was no harm in flirting, after all.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” Bitty told him, practically shouting in his ear to be heard.

At this proximity, Bitty could see the man’s cheeks go even more red, and the colour was delicious on him. Bitty got the impression that the stranger was pretty new to hanging out in clubs, and even newer to talking to cute guys at the bar. There was a shyness and an awkwardness to him that was really endearing.

“Can I buy you a drink?” The man asked him, leaning into Bitty’s space just as much as Bitty was leaning into his.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

The man regretfully pulled away, but only so he could shout an order to the patient bartender who had appeared to serve them. A fresh cocktail arrived shortly afterwards, along with a small glass of rum and two shots of what looked suspiciously like tequila. Bitty hid his smirk behind his hand. The man paid and tipped the bartender generously which was nice to see. After slipping his wallet back into his pocket he picked up one of the shots and raised it. There was a sparkle in the man’s deep blue eyes that made Bitty’s heart stutter in his chest. He picked up his own shot too, grinning and tapping the glasses together after echoing the man’s ‘cheers!’.

The tequila was bitter sliding down his throat and Bitty couldn’t fight the shudder. The man pulled a face, wrinkling up his nose and slamming his glass down. He quickly took a swallow of rum to wash away the taste, and Bitty seized the opportunity to ogle him. He really was devastatingly good looking, with cheekbones sharp enough to cut glass and a jawline peppered with stubble to match. The shy grin he flashed in Bitty’s direction was enough to make his knees go weak.

“Thanks, honey,” Bitty smiled, indicating he meant for the cocktail before he drank a mouthful of it. “I’m Eric, by the way.”

“I’m Jack,” the man responded, happy to lean in close again so they could be heard. “This is going to make me sound like a total creep, but I saw you walking through the park earlier.”

“It’s fine, I saw you too,” Bitty laughed, thrilled that Jack had noticed and remembered him. “Your boyfriend looked like he was talking your ear off!”

Jack pulled back enough for Bitty to see the disgust on his face and it was enough to make Bitty burst out laughing.

“Shitty is _not _my boyfriend,” Jack vehemently assured him. “Just a friend who likes to stick his nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“I have a few of those friends too,” Bitty snorted, his gaze instinctively looking for Ransom and Holster in the crowd. He couldn’t count the amount of times those two had tried to set him up with somebody.

“Did they force you to come out to get laid, too?” Jack asked him, an embarrassed grin painting his features. Bitty almost patted his cheeks, he was so cute.

“Not quite,” Bitty admitted, though the second ‘get laid’ left Jack’s mouth, he had sudden visions of ramming his dick past those pretty lips and fucking his throat. He quickly took another sip of his drink. “Though I wouldn’t be opposed to getting laid.”

Jack held his eyes over the rim of his glass of rum, and Bitty swore it felt like his blood was on fire just for a moment. He hadn’t experienced a sudden desire for anyone this strongly for a very long time, and it was a little overwhelming to say the least.

“I wouldn’t be opposed either,” Jack murmured. Bitty couldn’t quite hear him, but he understood anyway.

“Do you wanna dance?” He asked, hurriedly slurping his drink through his straw. Jack downed his drink without a second thought.

“I thought you’d never ask,” he smirked, an echo of Bitty’s earlier line.

Jack wasn’t the best dancer, but he didn’t need to be. After finding a tiny space on the crammed dance floor they both started to move, a few inches away at first but slowly coming together. Jack tried to match Bitty’s rhythm, rolling his hips just a second off the beat. But when their thighs were pressed together and Bitty could feel Jack’s tight pecs through his thin button up, he really didn’t care whether Jack could dance or not. A moment later and their hands were on each other. Jack’s biceps easily filled Bitty’s palms, much to his delight. Jack’s fingers curled around his hips and hooked themselves into the belt hoops of his shorts like they were made to be there.

If Bitty was hot before he was practically melting now. Jack’s body heat was seeping into his own and the chemistry between them only made the temperature soar that much quicker. Bitty was unaware of the people around them, too busy drowning in Jack’s eyes. The multi coloured lights flashed across his face, but the eyes were still bright enough to pierce straight through him. The music thumped in time with his heart, each pulse resonating within his chest. He wasn’t that drunk, but he definitely felt light-headed with lust.

Bitty shifted instinctively, his muscled thigh slipping between Jack’s legs. The obvious erection he found suddenly made Bitty’s mouth very dry. He was equally as turned on, his shorts becoming uncomfortable as his dick eagerly responded to the extremely attractive man all up in his space. Bitty needed that cock in his mouth like he needed air. His hands slid up Jack’s shirt and gripped it almost possessively before tugging him down to shout in his ear.

“You wanna get out of here?”

Jack nodded and grabbed his hand, yanking him through the gyrating crowd. Bitty stumbled after him with a giddy laugh, his head reeling with excitement. Bitty pulled his phone from his pocket and opened the Uber app without even thinking about it. Just as he confirmed their ride, Jack threw him up against the wall of the club and loomed in.

The kiss was pure electricity. Bitty had to stand on his tiptoes to reach that glorious mouth and his arms flew around Jack’s neck to hold him right there. Jack pressed his whole body up against his and the contact made Bitty shudder with want. A groan left his mouth before he could hold it back, but it only seemed to spur Jack on even more.

They finally broke apart when Bitty’s phone buzzed, letting them know their Uber was waiting. Already they were gasping for breath, lips red and swollen, desperate to tear each other’s clothes off. They scrambled into the car, laughing breathlessly at the state of each other. The driver set off, weaving carefully between traffic and drunken pedestrians. Bitty took a moment to compose himself a little, though he caught Jack’s eye and started giggling again. He leaned over to straighten Jack’s rumpled collar, accidentally on purpose brushing his fingertips against Jack’s flushed skin.

The journey was agony. The most Bitty allowed was a firm hand squeezing his thigh, having enough common sense to at least remain dignified in front of their driver. Jack’s foot tapped impatiently, and he stuck his nose into Bitty’s hair, inhaling his scent like an addict. The moment the car came to a stop they were out, throwing a hurried ‘thanks!’ over their shoulders as they raced up the steps towards Bitty’s apartment. Bitty couldn’t get the key in the door fast enough, laughing and squeaking as Jack kissed and tickled the back of his neck.

A second later they stumbled into the apartment in a tangle. Bitty didn’t bother turning on the lights. The hallway was lit enough from the moon shining through the window and he grabbed Jack’s hand, tugging him through a maze of forgotten shoes and abandoned shirts through to the bedroom. They collapsed onto the bed together, their lips joined once again. Bitty haphazardly flicked on a lamp and the room was bathed in a golden glow that defined Jack’s features wonderfully.

Their clothes came off next. They had to be peeled off, completely damp with sweat, and then thrown aside. Jack’s body was more mouth-watering than Bitty had ever dreamed. Planes of muscle gleamed in the light and just begged to be touched and kissed and tasted. Bitty dove forward, his hands exploring the skin first and then followed by an eager mouth. He nosed his way through coarse hair, catching a nipple on the way and eliciting an appreciative gasp for his efforts. He continued to work downwards, his hands clumsily pushing at Jack’s hips until he got the message and fell back against the pillows.

Bitty took a second to admire the thick cut of Jack’s dick, and his belly flip-flopped with excitement. His head was already swimming, caught up in the desire that was quickly overwhelming him. He didn’t waste any time. He wrapped a clammy palm around Jack’s stiff erection and stroked once, twice, then took him into his mouth. He was big, Bitty’s jaw had to stretch wide, but it was satisfying. Oh lord, was it satisfying. Bitty’s eyes fluttered closed and he let himself loose.

The noises Jack made sent a shiver down Bitty’s spine. His moans weren’t loud, but they were guttural, and obviously grateful. Jack’s legs lifted and spread almost instinctively, allowing Bitty more room to move. It wasn’t long before Jack was shaking, a hand pressed to his mouth to muffle the dizzying gasps. Bitty was already addicted to the feel of him in his mouth, enjoying feeling him throb and twitch underneath his tongue. Jack’s other hand somehow found its way into Bitty’s hair and buried itself, fingers curling around the strands.

A few moments later Jack breathed a warning, his words punctured with desperate whimpers. Bitty didn’t slow, spurred on by the effect he was having on the other man. He gripped Jack’s thick thighs and slid his mouth further down Jack’s erection, relaxing his throat as much as he could. He sucked hard on the upstroke and that was enough to tip Jack over the edge. His whole body stiffened and Bitty only had a second to prepare before Jack’s climax struck.

Bitty lifted his head afterwards, letting Jack’s dick fall from his mouth with a wet pop. He wiped his mouth and grinned up at his lover, very pleased to see him gasping and trembling with an arm flung over his eyes as he floated down from the aftershocks. The hand in his hair fell away and Bitty crawled up Jack’s body once more, pressing slick kisses to the damp skin. Jack lifted his arm and peered down at him, chest still heaving. He returned Bitty’s grin, gorgeous blue eyes sparkling with mischief.

There was a frantic kiss, erratic only while Jack caught his breath. His big hands roamed while their mouths touched, sliding down smooth, tanned skin and grabbing palms full of Bitty’s tight, pert ass. He obviously liked what he felt because a second later he’d disappeared from underneath him. Bitty blinked in surprise, still on his hands and knees on the mattress. He wasn’t confused for long, realising Jack had moved behind him. He relaxed onto his forearms when those hands returned to caress his hips and thighs.

He let out an appreciative hum, eyelids flickering, when the massage moved up to his ass. Jack parted and squeezed the cheeks between his palms and Bitty couldn’t resist arching his back and showing off the perfect curve of his spine. Jack rewarded him by reaching underneath and fondling his stiff, aching dick. Bitty sighed happily, melting a little more into the bed. His pulse was already racing having been so turned on just by blowing him. Half of him wanted to throw caution to the wind and demand Jack fuck him hard enough to see stars.

The thought disappeared into bliss when he felt a mouth on the tender skin of his ass. Jack’s kiss was chaste, but the tongue that followed lit a fire in the pit of Bitty’s belly. He let out a surprised gasp which quickly turned into a loud moan when the tongue probed deeper. The spike of pleasure grew and grew as Jack proceeded to eat him out, the hand on his dick tugging and squeezing with each delicious flick of his tongue. Bitty was soon having to muffle his ecstatic cries into his pillow. He couldn’t remember the last time a man had unravelled him so completely.

The orgasm was unexpected and brutal. His head swam and every nerve burst into sparks as the pleasure overwhelmed him. He clenched his eyes shut and indeed saw stars dancing in the blackness. It was a while before he drifted back into lucidness, and he collapsed onto his side in a breathless puddle. Once he felt able to lift his head, he saw Jack wiping his hands on his discarded towel, looking every part the Greek god in Bitty’s wildest fantasies. Bitty hummed and closed his eyes again, thoroughly exhausted.

“That was fucking awesome,” he mumbled around a wide yawn.

“It really was,” Jack agreed with a laugh. The bed dipped on the right as he joined him.

“You can stay the night if you want. I’ll make waffles,” Bitty promised, making himself more comfortable in the mass of pillows and blankets.

“That sounds nice. Thank you.”

Bitty opened his eyes and smiled when he saw they were almost nose to nose. They were both sweaty, and still a little red in the face, but there was something between them that wasn’t there before. It was an odd connection, one that made Bitty’s heart skip a beat. He opened his mouth to ask if Jack felt it too, but ultimately decided against it. That was a silly thing to think. Instead he faked another yawn and pulled the thin blankets tighter around him.

“Goodnight.”

“…goodnight, Eric.”

Bitty slept soundlessly for the whole night. He awoke the next morning feeling content and rested. He yawned and stretched, weirdly satisfied when his joints clicked audibly. He opened his eyes and looked across the bed with a smile, fully expecting to see a gorgeous man laid there. He was sorely disappointed to find the bed empty. His smile dropped and he looked around the room. All of Jack’s clothes were gone.

He let out a sigh and flopped back against the pillows. He’d genuinely enjoyed Jack’s company, and the sex had been epic, so he had hoped Jack would at least stick around for breakfast. A little part of him felt like he’d missed out on something important, but then common sense kicked in and he got over it. He’d only been after a hook up anyway and had no room in his life for anything else. After fifteen minutes of pouting and being lazy, he dragged himself out of bed.

There was a note in the kitchen. It had four words in a scruffy, loopy script: _Thank you _and _Sorry, Jack._ No number. Bitty scoffed and threw it straight into the bin. Jack obviously had his reasons for leaving, but Bitty couldn’t be bitter about it. Maybe they’d meet each other at the bar again another time, but for now, Bitty wasn’t going to waste any time dwelling on it. He had a new job to prepare for after all.

His Sunday was spent in his pyjamas watching YouTube vlogs and eating leftover pizza. He made two pies instead of one to take to the office, having been unable to decide between classic apple and cinnamon or the more daring cherry and dark chocolate. There was a call to Lardo in the evening, where they both traded stories about the guys they’d gone home with. He half expected the promised email from Ransom to ping in his inbox at some point, but it never happened. A quick text to Holster confirmed that the pair were horrendously hungover. At least they’d all had a good night. He had a long bubble bath, then Bitty went to bed early.

After a year or so of rising at the crack of dawn, it was a welcome change to sleep in until seven thirty. He thrummed with a nervous energy as he showered and ate breakfast, but he was excited too. He was desperate to get stuck into the work but knew he had at least a day of boring induction materials to slog through first. The thought didn’t dampen his spirits too much, and he almost skipped his way out of his apartment and down the street. He stopped for coffee, unashamedly flirting with the cute, blonde barista behind the counter, and arrived at the rink just before eight thirty.

The day went as he predicted. The morning was spent meeting the rest of the small social media team and the HR and PR associates he shared the office with. Everyone was pleasant enough, and completely devoured his pies, much to his delight. He struggled to remember names, his brain already suffering with information overload. He had his own desk by the window, and as he listened to training videos with half an ear, he imagined decorating it with little plants and pictures of his friends.

The friendly woman he sat next to was named Shruti, and they instantly clicked after discovering they’d both attended Samwell university at the same time. She’d been captain of the women’s rugby team, so their paths had never crossed. Still, they bonded over gossiping about the Swallow and reminiscing over the Quad covered in snow and Annie’s sweet pumpkin spice lattes. By the time lunch time rolled around, they were fast becoming friends.

There was no staff cafeteria, so the pair headed to the little café next door for lunch. It wasn’t one Bitty had visited before, but he was soon delighting in their homemade bread and delicate patisseries. They chose a little table by the wide windows so they could watch the scores of people scurrying past on their own lunch hours. Bitty was grateful for the respite from the office, his head was already throbbing from looking at a screen for four hours.

“I don’t always come here for lunch,” Shruti was saying as she tore her sandwich into chunks and ate them one by one. “It can get expensive, so I usually bring my own food.”

“I’ll make us lunch tomorrow,” Bitty offered immediately. “I make my own bread, jam and nut butter. You’ll love it,” he promised.

“I have a feeling working with you won’t be good for my waistline,” Shruti snickered. “But that sounds great, thanks!”

“Well I do my best to at least make things a little healthier,” Bitty grinned. “I was friends with the hockey team at school so had to make sure it all fit into their diet plan,” he explained.

“The men’s hockey team was crazy,” she snorted in amusement. “If they weren’t yelling in the library, they were causing fights with the lax bros.”

“They don’t become any less crazy when they graduate, trust me,” Bitty said dryly, his exasperated expression making her laugh.

“How did you meet them?” Shruti wondered.

“I ran a figure skating society,” Bitty replied, looking wistful as he remembered it. “We shared the ice sometimes. Faber was really beautiful, especially when it was sunny.”

“I never even went in. It looked good from the outside though. Did you know there are figure skating lessons here at the rink?” She asked.

“Yeah, I’ve been having them a few weeks. I think I’m a little older than Tatiana’s usual students, but she doesn’t seem to mind,” Bitty laughed. “Now I’ve started this job I can probably have a few more lessons at the weekend.”

“Watch out for Zimmermann,” Shruti scoffed, finishing her sandwich and moving onto her carrot cake with relish. “He books the ice every Saturday morning as soon as we open.”

“Zimmermann? Who’s that?” Bitty asked. He lifted an eyebrow at her when she stared incredulously at her. “What?”

“You don’t know who Zimmermann is? Haven’t you checked the roster?” She asked.

“No, I’ve not had chance. Is he a player?”

“He’s the captain. Jack Zimmermann. He’s only been here a year but he’s our top scorer. He’s also a certified asshole,” Shruti snorted.

“Why?” Bitty frowned.

“He’s perpetually in a bad mood. He barely ever speaks, and when he does it’s usually to argue something. He refuses to set up any kind of social media presence or come to any kind of team social that isn’t mandatory. He’s like a robot. And he spends all his free time on the ice. I swear the man works harder than god,” she sneered.

“Aw, I’m sure he’s not that bad,” Bitty reasoned. “Being captain is a lot of pressure.”

“It’s more than that,” she argued. “It’s like he purposely puts up a wall or something. He had this massive meltdown years ago and ended up in rehab. Took him ages to rebuild his career and it’s like he doesn’t want anything threatening it.”

“Well that’s understandable, if he’s had to work so hard,” he pointed out. “Maybe he just needs a friend.”

“I doubt it. Just wait and see, Eric. You’ll know what I mean.”

It wasn’t the first story he would hear about hockey robot Jack Zimmermann. When they returned to their desks that afternoon Shruti encouraged their colleagues to share their own nightmares about the guy. The more he heard the more Bitty was starting to think the man was past friendship and a patient ear, but he tried not to pass judgement until he’d met him. As luck would have it, one of the other social media associates needed a soundbite from their captain for one of that day’s Twitter posts and invited Bitty along.

The smaller practice rink was noisy and cold when they walked in. Bitty wrapped his arms around his middle and followed the other man down the rows of seats. He’d watched hundreds of hockey practices before and could identify the drills the coach was running his players through. Bitty recognised a few names emblazoned onto the backs of jerseys, but it was hard to make out any faces under visors when they were all speeding by in a blur. They settled by the scorekeepers’ bench to wait.

Eventually the coach called for a short break, and most of the players headed over to their bench to guzzle water and catch their breath. Bitty’s colleague flagged Zimmermann’s attention and waved him over before warning Bitty under his breath about the impending blandness of whatever statement they were about to receive. Bitty watched the man glide over. His features were clouded by the plastic visor, but there was something about the angular face that was familiar. Just as he approached, the man took his helmet off.

Bitty had to turn his gasp into a hasty cough, quickly hiding it behind his hand. Zimmermann’s devastating blue eyes flickered towards him, and Bitty could have sworn the captain’s pale skin visibly whitened even more. Other than a discreet tightening of that beautifully chiselled jaw, there was no other indication that Jack had recognised him. He quickly looked back towards Bitty’s colleague, pretending Bitty wasn’t there.

Fuck.

It was Jack. The very same Jack that had eaten him out and groped his dick and given him one of the most brain-melting orgasms he’d ever had. It was also the Jack who had left in the early hours and left behind a shitty note. Bitty’s head spiralled as he tried to make sense of it all, hoping his hand hid the array of emotions he was feeling in case they were broadcast all over his dumb face.

“Hey Jack,” Bitty’s colleague was saying, completely oblivious to the emotional trauma Bitty was currently going through. “I just need a few words about yesterday’s game for Twitter. Oh, and this is Eric, by the way, new social media guy.”

Jack’s eyes barely flickered towards him and the greeting he murmured was brief and emotionless. Bitty managed to squeak out a reply, praying his face wasn’t bright red. That was the end of their interaction. Jack delivered his monotonous soundbite and then sped off down the ice with barely a goodbye. Bitty’s colleague snorted and stowed the voice recorder back into his pocket.

“Told you the guy was an asshole.”

Bitty wasn’t sure how he made it through the day. As soon as he was sat at his desk again, he had to resist the urge to find Zimmermann’s Wikipedia page and read up everything about the strange man. Instead he occupied himself with going through the social media archives, listening to every interview. At least he was getting an idea of the Falconers’ voice while he was doing so. Interestingly enough, the Canadian captain was as stoic and focussed in those posts as he was for that latest soundbite. The only time Bitty ever glimpsed a sight of the man he’d spent the night with was during a family skate with his famous and attractive parents. That dorky smile burned its way onto his brain permanently.

As soon as he clocked out for the day, he yanked out his phone and messaged the group chat. _Emergency!!! _The text read, _Dinner at mine tonight??? _All three of his friends replied instantly – no one ignored an emergency text. Bitty made it home in record time and immediately started yanking out pots and pans. He turned his Spotify on loud and refused to even think of Jack Zimmermann as he set about making dinner for all of them. Of course, that meant he ended up thinking a lot about Jack Zimmermann and consequently burned dinner. He had just enough time to run out for takeaway and wine before Lardo, Ransom and Holster appeared on his doorstep.

When the four of them were finally seated in his tiny (but stylish) lounge, cartons of Chinese in their laps and full glasses of wine in their hands, he finally spilled the beans. His audience watched him with rapt attention, chopsticks full of chicken chow mein half way to their mouths.

“So, that super-hot guy I hooked up with on Saturday night? It was only Jack fucking Zimmermann,” Bitty revealed dramatically, a hand over his heart like he couldn’t believe the scandal.

“Are you bullshitting me?” Holster demanded as the other two gasped. Bitty shook his head gravely.

“I wish I was. I heard stories all day about how much of a dick their captain was. I go down to the ice to get a soundbite and there he was. In all his gorgeous asshole glory,” He replied, waving his glass around.

“Fuuuuuck,” Lardo grinned, clearly delighting in his misfortune. “So, what happened? Did he recognise you?”

“Oh, he recognised me alright,” Bitty scoffed. “I saw the look on his face before he wiped it. He pretended I wasn’t there and then just skated off after giving my colleague what he wanted.”

“Wow. He really is a dick,” Holster commented, finally shoving his food into his mouth.

“Like I’m sure he had his reasons for leaving. But the least he could do was be polite,” Ransom pointed out.

“What are you going to do? You’re not gonna quit, are you?” Lardo asked, looking like she might beat him around the head for even considering it.

“No, of course not,” Bitty replied quickly. “I’m not gonna give up my dream job just because I happened to sleep with their star player and now he clearly hates me.” He groaned as the gravity of the situation settled on his shoulders. “It’s just going to be majorly awkward.”

“Maybe he’s not out,” Lardo suggested.

“No, he’s out. First ever open LGBT player in the NHL,” Ransom informed them, a fountain of knowledge as always. “He came out as bi a couple of years ago, though as far as I know he wasn’t dating. It caused a huge media storm.”

“Which ESPN likes to forget unless Zimmermann stirs the shit,” Holster snorted. “He’s only queer when it suits them.”

“Shitty professional sports behaviour aside, Jack’s known for not having much of a life outside hockey. He’s a super private person, and honestly? After the life he’s had, I don’t blame him,” Ransom shrugged.

“I heard about the rehab scandal. I’ve been told we avoid mentioning it at all costs. What exactly happened?” Bitty asked.

“Dude overdosed when he was eighteen and dropped out of the draft. He was in rehab for a couple of years I think, missed out on the top spot. Everyone says it was crack, but to this day his dad insists it was anxiety medication,” Holster explained.

“Whatever it was, it fucked his career up. No one wanted to sign him, and Jack never did any interviews or anything to share his side of the story, so the media just slaughtered him. Eventually he popped up on some AHL team in Canada and worked his way up. The Canadiens ended up signing him about four years ago after they saw he was still a fucking epic player. But it’s like no matter how well he plays, there’s always some shitty jibe about his past. The guy just can’t get away from it. It’s understandable that he wants nothing to do with the media or the public.” Ransom finished his story by taking a huge gulp of wine and nodding sagely.

“That does make sense,” Bitty sighed. “Wow. I kinda feel sorry for him now.”

“A shitty life doesn’t mean he gets to be a dick though,” Lardo pointed out. “It’s understandable but it doesn’t excuse it.”

“Well, I’ll just be professional. I owe him that much at least,” Bitty mused. “I’ll be polite and just do my job and forget we ever slept together.”

Bitty did not forget that they ever slept together. Every time he saw Jack’s stupid face on the Falconers’ website, he remembered what it looked like in the heated throes of sex. It made work very difficult, but he soldiered on. It would just take time, he told himself. Luckily, his current work involved trawling through archives and getting a feel for the Falconers’ online presence. Recalling Jack’s strangled cries as he came didn’t disrupt his work too much, though it made crossing his legs very uncomfortable. He thankfully didn’t have to go down to the ice again, and by the time Saturday rolled around, he was desperate to get on the ice and release some frustration.

Except he forgot that Jack Zimmermann booked out the ice every Saturday morning.

He arrived about twenty minutes early, daydreaming of racing around the ice with no restrictions before Tatiana even got there. He tottered in his figure skates through the hallway and out onto the ice, expecting just a few moments of pure, blissful solitude. So, he was very disappointed to find hockey robot Jack Zimmermann practicing slapshots into an empty net. He huffed and dropped into a rinkside seat, his daydreams evaporating into a distant memory.

If Jack noticed he was there, he didn’t show it, but after Monday’s interaction, Bitty didn’t expect him to. He had to admit though, Jack really was a demon on the ice. He made hockey look as natural as breathing, his stick merely an extension of himself. Fifteen minutes later he finally stopped firing pucks and leaned on his knees to catch his breath.

“I have the ice until ten,” he called breathlessly, startling Bitty out of his thoughts.

“I figured you had it enough during the week,” Bitty dryly shouted back. He took the guards off his blades, put them aside, and then joined him on the ice.

Jack didn’t look like he appreciated the humour, or Bitty’s presence for that matter.

“I have the ice until ten,” Jack repeated bluntly, staring at him skating over as if he couldn’t understand why Bitty wasn’t leaving him the hell alone.

“Five minutes won’t kill you,” Bitty retorted, gracefully coming to a stop before him and spraying his skates with shaved ice.

For a moment, they just stared at each other. Bitty had forgotten just how much taller Jack was, and now he was out of hockey pads Bitty was also remembering just how broad his shoulders were and how tiny his waist was. Damn, he was too gay for this shit. Stubbornly he dragged his eyes back up to Jack’s face, which was sadly no less gorgeous than the last time he’d looked at it.

“…you skate?” Jack finally asked, glancing down at Bitty’s slim figure skates.

“Since I was knee high to a grasshopper,” Bitty replied, wondering if they were about to have an actual conversation. “Almost as long as you, I imagine.”

He could almost pinpoint the exact moment Jack shut himself down. The contrast between the man he’d spent the night with and the man standing before him was just so bizarre. Jack straightened a little and fixed him with a hard look.

“Next week we’re on our first roadie, but the Saturday after that, I have the ice until ten.”

With that he turned and skated off, the picture of elegance, and took the goalie net with him. Bitty rolled his eyes and resisted the urge to childishly mimic him behind his back. It seemed that Jack was going to do his utmost best to pretend that last weekend never happened, and that was just fine by Bitty. He could easily forget all about that huge, pert ass if Jack continued to be so mean. Well. In theory, at least.

He could not forget about that huge, pert ass.

Jack wasn’t any less mean, but he’d somehow gotten under Bitty’s skin, and it was infuriating. Thankfully he didn’t have to spend much time with him, and the other Falconers were very welcoming and friendly, almost as if they were trying to make up for Jack’s brusqueness. Bitty had been in Nate the nutritionist’s bad books when he baked pies for the entire team, but Nate soon softened up when a slice of winter berry found its way onto its desk. Within a couple of weeks, Bitty felt like he really belonged.

It might have been really sneaky, but Bitty took advantage of Jack’s absence and booked the rink for his lesson with Tatiana at eight am that Saturday Jack was due back. From the receptionist’s face he knew it wouldn’t go down well. But Bitty didn’t care. Jack didn’t own the ice, and if he’d been a bit more polite to him then Bitty wouldn’t feel like being spiteful. Part of him was still a little offended by Jack’s unexplained departure after they’d slept together, but whatever. He wasn’t going to be Jack’s gay crisis.

His lesson went well, as it always did. He adored figure skating again. There was just something about gliding across the ice and curving his body to the music that was really liberating. Tatiana even believed he could ready for competitions again within the year, and that in itself made Bitty’s heart thrum with an excitement he hadn’t felt for years. She left him at nine thirty and he made the most of the empty rink by practising jumps. He was having trouble nailing the required rotations for a salchow and not having Tatiana’s voice in his ear helped his concentration.

That was, until Jack Zimmermann turned up after fifteen minutes.

He towered in his skates by one of the entrances, arms crossed and expression sour. Bitty was very tempted to ignore him and launch into one of his more complicated routines, but the urge to chirp him was just too strong.

“I have the ice until ten,” Bitty called with a shit-eating smirk.

If he didn’t know better, he could have sworn Jack’s mouth quirked upwards.

“Except this is my slot,” Jack argued, lifting an eyebrow when it was obvious Bitty wasn’t leaving the ice anytime soon.

“I figured you deserved a lie in,” Bitty replied. He made himself tear his eyes away and skated to centre ice, preparing to jump again. “I thought the extra sleep might help you get out on the right side of the bed for a change. Guess not.”

Jack didn’t reply, and it was hard to tell from so far away, but it looked like his expression faltered for the briefest of seconds. Bitty focussed ahead instead, determined to pull off the perfect jump for Jack’s benefit. He wasn’t sure why he wanted to impress the asshole, but he put his all into launching himself off the ice. He very slightly under-rotated but landed with a flourish, the chilly air whipping his fringe into his face. To Jack’s untrained eye, it was probably very well executed. He swooped into a couple of simpler jumps that he carried out flawlessly, just to show off a little.

He probably needn’t have bothered. Jack’s face was completely neutral. Letting out a defeated breath that ruffled up his fringe, Bitty skated towards him, though stopped a couple of feet short. They studied one another in silence for a moment, before Bitty thought fuck it and decided to offer him an olive branch as an apology for stealing his slot.

“I probably won’t be of much help, but I know a few hockey drills from college. We could go through a couple if you fancied a partner,” he suggested.

For a long moment, he thought Jack would either ignore him or flat out refuse. Much to his surprise, the other man nodded, tossing Bitty his spare stick. It was a bit too long, and felt a bit odd in his hands, but Bitty felt a new kind of exhilaration in his bones. He couldn’t wait to tell Holster and Ransom about this later, they’d definitely lose their shit. It had been a long time since he’d fooled around on the ice with them, and he hoped he’d retained at least a bit of what they’d taught him.

Jack, probably taking pity on him, started off simple. It didn’t take long for Bitty to get the hang of passing again, and once muscle memory kicked in, he was soon racing through the drills. He didn’t have Jack’s skill by any means, but he was fast and could almost predict where Jack was going to be before he got there. Weirdly enough, it was fun, and it looked like Jack was enjoying himself too, if the occasional small smile was anything to go by. For a few moments Bitty caught glimpses of the man he spent the night with.

Half an hour later Bitty skidded to a halt, out of breath and sweaty. He doubled over and rested his hands on his knees as he panted, legs screaming from the exercise he’d endured. Jack came to a graceful stop beside him, his breathing coming a little quicker now he was sufficiently warmed up. His cheeks were an enticing shade of pink and Bitty had to look away as Jack took a long pull from his bottle of water. He held it out wordlessly and Bitty accepted it, doing his best to ignore the droplets on the corners of Jack’s lips.

“You’re fast,” Jack finally said, taking his water back after Bitty had drained at least half of it. It felt like a high compliment coming from him, and Bitty shrugged modestly.

“Spent most of my life running from bullies. And I’m small. That helps,” he explained, feeling a bit awkward.

“You’re not bad, though. Did you ever want to take it up? Hockey, I mean?” Jack asked, sounding curious. It was enough of a change from his usual stoic demeanour that it made Bitty’s heart flutter.

“No.” Bitty hesitated, then threw caution to the wind again. Jack had a habit of making him feel a bit reckless. “I’ve been thrown around a lot by jocks over the years. I couldn’t handle the checking.”

Jack was quiet, unconsciously fingering the bruise left on his arm from a bad check last weekend. He searched Bitty’s eyes with an odd expression on his face, almost like he could imagine the years of humiliation and fear Bitty had gone through just for daring to be different. It must have triggered something inside of him and for the first time since that night, Bitty saw him visibly soften. His tight shoulders relaxed a little, as did the hard lines around his face, and he just nodded.

“I don’t know much about figure skating,” he admitted, surprising Bitty with the change of subject. “But you look like you’re very good at it.”

“Thank you,” Bitty smiled, equally surprised at the heartfelt compliment. “I won a few competitions in college. Probably could have gone for the Olympics at some point but I was already disappointing my daddy enough. Didn’t wanna shame him further.” He snorted, the smile turning a little bitter.

“I don’t understand,” Jack murmured, tilting his head at him in an endearing manner that made Bitty’s smile turn sad instead.

“My daddy’s a high school football coach. It was bad enough I wanted to be a figure skater. Then add being gay on top of that. Broadcasting it on international television probably would have killed him off,” he sighed.

He was far away for a moment, remembering the look in Coach’s eyes when he finally drew up the courage to utter those words. It was a memory that still stung, even after all these years.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

Jack’s reply was a bit stiff and uncertain, but it seemed sincere enough. It was enough to snap Bitty out of his reverie and flash him his usual charming smile.

“Oh, don’t worry, it’s by the by,” he assured him, waving his hand dismissively. “Anyway, I should get going. I’ve taken up enough of your practice time.”

Jack didn’t reply and his expression was odd again, so Bitty headed to the seats and shoved on his blade guards before it could get too awkward. He felt a little raw and exposed, and wasn’t sure if he’d overstepped some weird sort of boundary between them. Jack hadn’t been standoffish exactly, but there was something about him that made Bitty regret oversharing.

“You can have the ice next week,” he said as some kind of peace offering as he hovered by the hallway to the changing rooms. “I’ll tell Tatiana to come in at ten instead.”

Jack nodded slowly, then surprised Bitty yet again by giving him a small smile. It lit his eyes up a bit and Bitty suddenly felt weak at the knees in a way that had nothing to do with the exercise.

“Okay. Then the week after we’ll swap. I’ll come in at ten.”

“That sounds great,” Bitty replied, unable to help the wide smile. Maybe offering the olive branch hadn’t been such a bad idea after all. “See you around, Jack.”

“See you around,” Jack echoed as Bitty turned to go. “Oh, and Bittle? If I score tonight, we have to practice drills every Saturday.”

The grin he gave was practically wolfish, his eyes sparkling. Bitty let out a hearty laugh and retreated into the changing rooms where he had to take a very long, very cold shower.

Jack sadly didn’t score, and Bitty wasn’t sure if he was disappointed or not. He watched the game at Ransom and Holster’s, who had indeed lost their shit when he told them he’d practiced hockey drills with an NHL superstar, even if it was the same NHL superstar who had snubbed him previously. Bitty found himself paying a bit more attention than he usually would, his eyes following Jack’s every move almost obsessively.

The man was a force to be reckoned with on the ice. His resolve was almost unshakeable, his gorgeous face the picture of pure determination. He only snapped once, when a Philadelphia Flyer dirtily checked Sebastien St Martin into the boards and Jack took offence. He dropped his gloves and threw himself at the bulky defenceman, earning himself a penalty and a bloody lip for his efforts. The camera zoomed in on his furious, slightly breathless face as he skated off to the sin bin, showing off blazing eyes underneath a sweaty brow.

Bitty had to abruptly excuse himself to the bathroom, where he splashed ice cold water onto his face and gave himself a mental lecture in the blurry mirror. Jack Zimmermann was not available, emotionally, sexually or otherwise. His head knew this. But his heart and his libido clearly felt otherwise. Not only that, but Jack was a colleague now. Any future involvement would have ramifications that Bitty didn’t want to face, especially as he’d only been working with the Falconers for a few weeks. He needed to get over this infatuation, even if Jack was the first man he’d ever felt so strongly about. There would be other men.

But they weren’t Jack.

Bitty tried, lord knew he tried his damned hardest. Ransom and Holster were all too happy to take him out on the town on the next few weekends that followed on the search for a new hot, young man to take his mind off Jack Zimmermann. Except none of them were Jack Zimmermann, and it was infuriating. The men he’d chatted up with were plenty attractive and had bucket loads of charm and were genuinely very nice people. But no one had Jack’s wolf eyes or his fierce determination or his quiet, understated humour. Bitty ended up turning them all away.

He turned up to his figure skating lesson a month later feeling quite defeated after yet another failed hook up the previous night. He had the ice first that morning, and to put it bluntly, his lesson was disastrous. He messed up the majority of his jumps and his wandering mind had been too distracted to keep time with the music. A stern telling off from Tatiana at the end of their time left him irritated and frustrated with himself. If he had any hope of entering competitions next year, he couldn’t allow something silly like a crush get in the way of his concentration.

Jack was late. He usually turned up about fifteen minutes before ten and watched the end of Bitty’s lesson, but he didn’t this time and that was exasperating too. Jack never commented on Bitty’s figure skating, but Bitty always assumed Jack enjoyed watching. On the one hand though, he was grateful that Jack hadn’t witnessed what a bad session it was, and then he was annoyed that he cared about what Jack thought at all. By the time the hockey captain appeared on the ice it was dot on ten, and Bitty was fuming.

They usually spent their shared time running through drills and helping the other warm up. Not much was said during, but Bitty believed they’d struck up a kind of tentative friendship. Work wasn’t mentioned, as far as Bitty was concerned they were both off the clock, and any actual conversation they had was fleeting and generally pleasant, if shallow. Still, Bitty thought Jack appeared less standoffish and more quietly attentive each week. It felt like there were getting somewhere.

Bitty didn’t wait for Jack to finish dragging the goalie net into place. He skated towards the taller man, showering his feet in shavings of ice as he came to an abrupt halt in front of him. He didn’t even give Jack a chance to say hi.

“Race me. Please?”

Jack looked like he was going to refuse. They’d never raced before, and Jack wasn’t even warmed up. It was obvious he would lose and if there was anything Bitty had learned about Jack in the six weeks they had known each other it was that he hated to lose. But he studied Bitty’s face with a stoic silence and something in his expression must have triggered something in him, because he nodded in agreement.

“Three laps,” Bitty said shortly, in no mood to waste any more words.

He waited for Jack to fall in place beside him and ready himself. He ignored the familiar determination that settled in Jack’s eyes and fixed his gaze on the boards on the other side of the rink. He lifted his hand, knowing Jack would understand the signal. A moment later they were both off, Bitty zooming ahead instantly, arms tucked in and body leaning forward to gain momentum. Jack trailed behind to begin with, unwilling to pull a muscle by pushing himself before he was even warmed up.

To begin with, Bitty ignored him. He concentrated only on the chilly rush on his cheeks and pumping his legs one after the other. He just needed to skate fast, allowing all his frustration to be whipped away by the wind and leaving his head quiet. His calves soon burned with the effort, worn out from his lesson, but he didn’t dare slow down lest the troubles caught up with him again. The stands passed by in a blur and his ears roared so much he could barely hear the frenzied _shuck shuck _of his skates as he tore through the ice.

On his second lap he noticed Jack was catching up. It was a futile competition for him, one he could never hope to win. Not only was his body not as warmed up, it simply wasn’t as compact or lithe as Bitty’s. And yet he raced anyway, drove himself enough to provide at least a little bit of a challenge. But why? Bitty didn’t know. He made himself not think again. He wasted too much time thinking about why Jack Zimmermann did half of the things he did. Right now, he just wanted nothingness.

He skated harder, until he couldn’t even see Jack in his peripheral vision. His ragged breath and thudding heart drowned out every other noise. He almost wanted this moment to last forever. This mindless dash around an endless white expanse with a chill and a fire in his bones. But it ended, and abruptly too. His legs suddenly couldn’t take anymore, and he felt so exhausted he could have easily collapsed into a heap on the ice.

He didn’t collapse but he did come to an unexpected stop, the blades on his feet digging so hard into the ice he wobbled a little. Reality crashed down around him as he fought for breath, the air clouding as he dragged it in and out. He completely forgot all about Jack Zimmermann chasing his tail.

A less experienced skater might have collided into him and knocked him into the plexiglass with enough force to break bones. Luckily, Jack was so competent when it came to skating that it probably felt safer to him than walking on pavement. He’d spent so many years attuning to the presence of others on the ice that ensuring he didn’t knock Bitty over was almost instinctual. The second he saw the smaller man halt, Jack dug in the breaks and swerved.

He was going too fast and Bitty had stopped too abruptly for him to avoid him completely. He knew exactly how to use his body to physically obstruct an opponent, but that same training had also taught him how to do so without purposely causing too much damage. Accidents happened of course but it was a player’s responsibility to ensure their check was clean and as safe as it could be. Bitty was a lot smaller than the hockey players he faced, and he wasn’t wearing any protective padding. A hit at such close range could seriously harm him.

It all happened in a blur. Jack hurled an arm around his shoulders and spun him, almost completely off his feet. The sudden contact drove Bitty’s already limited breath from his lungs as Jack swung him around and against the plexiglass with enough force to make it wobble. Jack’s arm around his shoulders absorbed the shock and he found himself fully caged in by Jack’s huge body, looming tall and close, but completely unharmed. Jack had brought his other hand up against the glass to lessen the impact, bracing himself so his weight didn’t crush him.

For a long moment all they did was stare at each other and catch their breath. Jack’s arm began to tremble, but he didn’t make a move. There was an odd expression in his eyes that Bitty couldn’t place, even though they were close enough to feel the other’s harsh panting on their chilled, pink cheeks. Bitty’s heart was pounding so hard his chest ached, though he wasn’t sure if it was because of the jolt or because of their proximity.

Never had he wanted to kiss a man so much.

Eventually the desire gave way to shock and he began to shake. Jack sensed the moment was broken and took a step back, carefully dislodging his arm from underneath him. Bitty let out a long, shaky breath and relaxed against the plexiglass, closing his eyes for a moment as his body recovered. The frustration was gone, leaving behind a numb exhaustion. When he finally opened his eyes, Jack was giving him that odd look again. Lord he wished he could read that boy’s mind.

“Are you alright?” Jack finally asked, still sounding slightly breathless. His eyes swept over him, searching for any injury at all, and Bitty felt like he was about to melt.

“I’m fine,” he managed to gasp.

“Why did you stop like that?” Jack frowned. Bitty closed his eyes again briefly, mentally preparing himself for the health and safety lecture that was about to come.

“I’m sorry. I know it was dangerous. I just…I forgot you were there,” he sighed, his eyes on the gouge marks they’d left in the ice. He wished they could swallow him up.

“You asked me to race you,” Jack said slowly, like he couldn’t believe how dumb Bitty was.

“I know!” Bitty burst before he could help himself. “I know! I just…”

His words trailed off into nothing, no more coming to him. He didn’t have to explain to Jack how frustrated he’d felt, it was none of his business. He couldn’t think how he would express himself anyway. Not in a way that hockey robot Jack Zimmermann could understand.

“…Needed it to go quiet for a bit,” Jack finished, his voice quiet but sincere.

Bitty’s eyes flickered back up to him in surprise. He searched Jack’s face, finding a vulnerability there that he’d never thought possible. The stress seemed to melt from Bitty’s shoulders with a slump and he nodded.

“Yeah,” he quietly agreed.

For a long time, Jack didn’t reply.

After a while, he let out a breath and turned, joining him in leaning against the plexiglass. Bitty watched him carefully, though Jack avoided his eyes. He seemed to be staring past the ice, his mind disappearing to a far-off place that Bitty could never follow him to. His hair was getting longer, the bangs falling into his eyes a little, and Bitty had to resist the urge to wipe them off his face.

“They’ve probably told you about my meltdown a few years ago,” Jack finally murmured, his voice low and a little distant.

Bitty didn’t feel the need to tell him he had actually Googled Jack Zimmermann on his first day of work. He’d been there a few days before his manager had given him strict instructions to never mention Jack’s overdose, and be very vague if his past time in the Q ever needed referring to, though it was best to avoid it altogether. The Googling was a detail Bitty would probably take to the grave. So instead he just nodded.

“A lot of people thought it was attempted suicide, but…it wasn’t that, not really. I just…I wanted everything to go quiet for a bit.” Jack lifted his head to meet Bitty’s eyes, giving him a weak smile that quickly fell.

Bitty was silent, processing the repeated words. The situations were entirely different of course, but he realised he probably had a lot more in common with this strange, handsome man than he first thought. He didn’t know what to say to that, so he moved just a little bit, pressing his bicep to Jack’s in a silent reassurance. He wondered how many people had heard that confession and realised it probably wasn’t many at all.

“I know everyone thinks I’m an asshole, and they’re probably right.” Jack’s smile was humourless. “But it’s what I have to do, to keep the anxiety under control. I get nervous. And I don’t like it when I can’t predict things. People do a lot of unpredictable things.”

The ball dropped and Bitty felt a wave of understanding wash over him.

“That’s why you left that morning,” he murmured, searching Jack’s eyes. He at least had the decency to look guilty.

“Yeah. I’m sorry. I don’t hook up often at all. You were…very different. In a good way. No one’s ever offered to let me stay and make me breakfast before. You scared me,” Jack admitted softly.

“I was disrupting your routine,” Bitty murmured, and Jack nodded in confirmation. “You should have said. I was really disappointed.”

“I’m sorry,” Jack repeated, even more sincere. “I disappointed myself. I regretted it for ages. I should have at least left you my number or something. But I panicked. I tried to forget about it, but then you turned up here.” He snorted, a little amused, and Bitty couldn’t help but laugh.

“Yeah, I imagine that didn’t help things,” Bitty mused.

“Not really,” Jack agreed with a half grin. “I thought I was going crazy, seeing you behind that desk. Didn’t you have any idea who I was?”

“Not a clue,” Bitty smirked. “You were just the hot guy I wanted to blow the second I saw him.”

Jack’s shy laugh was delicious, and the slight blush of his cheekbones even more so.

“It was amazing sex,” he murmured, unable to resist smiling. His eyes misted over slightly as he remembered their heated night together.

Bitty hummed his fervent agreement and another silence fell between them, but it was a comfortable one. He couldn’t help but wonder what kind of line they had crossed now. Part of him fantasised about making out on the ice and rekindling what they’d started, but he wasn’t sure that was what Jack wanted. Maybe there was too much water under the bridge now. But even if that was the case, he would be happy having Jack as a friend.

“Are you coming to the game tonight?” Jack asked, breaking him out of his reveries.

“Oh, yes. It’ll be my first time live tweeting, I’m really excited about it,” Bitty grinned up at him. Jack nodded, looking thoughtful.

“I’ll see you there, then.”

Bitty figured that was a subtle hint to leave. It was only fair – he’d cut into enough of Jack’s private practice time. He cleared his throat and straightened up, wobbly on his skates after the energetic morning. He flashed Jack a dazzling smile, feeling like a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders. The small, understated smile he received in return made his heart soar.

“See you there. And good luck.”

Bitty resisted the urge to kiss his cheek. The moment didn’t feel right. Instead he gently glided off the rink and towards the changing rooms.

“Oh, Bittle?”

Bitty paused at the doorway, turning and cocking his head at him. The look Jack was giving him lit a fire in his belly. His eyes were sparkling, and his soft grin made him look even more devastatingly handsome.

“I wanted to blow you the first time I saw you too.”

* * *

The game was brutal. It was a lot harder tweeting and keeping his eye on the puck at all times. Bitty wasn’t sure how he managed it, his brain was spinning from concentrating on the laptop screen and the blurred players zipping around the rink. It was exhilarating though, and he found a new excitement that had his heart racing. He genuinely loved this job.

It was a mammoth task to stop his biased eyes from following Jack’s form. Apart from a very brief smile when they locked eyes during warm ups, Jack was all business. It was as admirable as it was frustrating. He was completely different to the flirtatious man he’d shared the ice with that morning. It took him a long time to get Jack’s parting words out of his head, and he’d had to take a very long and very cold shower just so he could make the drive home. He’d still masturbated furiously to the mouth-watering memories from the night they’d shared the second he closed his bedroom door behind him.

So, there was definitely some kind of sexual spark between them. It had been so strong that night that he didn’t think it was something they could easily forget anyway. And now Bitty had answers and the air had been cleared between them, Bitty was looking forward to getting to know Jack without the awkwardness hanging over them. As soon as the game was over, he planned on inviting Jack out for dinner or something. It felt like he was doing things a little backwards, asking Jack on a date after they’d had sex, but it wasn’t like either of them were particularly conventional. Coffee and dinner sounded pleasant, safe even.

Or maybe a spa afternoon would be a better solution, if the game was anything to go by. It was only the second period and two fights had been broken up already. The Falconers had a long-standing rivalry with the Schooners, and fists were out in full force that evening. It was still too early in the season for the result to make too much of a difference to either team’s standing in the league, but the away players had played dirty and rough from the start and the Falconers had responded in kind. If Bitty wasn’t familiar with the game, he’d have been genuinely concerned.

Nobody targeted Jack specifically, but as captain and lead scorer he was often caught in violent checks and scuffles. He also felt the need to vehemently stand up for his players whether they required his assistance or not and ended up on the receiving end of a few right hooks for his efforts. Tonight was no different. From his place beside the scorekeepers, Bitty had a perfect view of the action. It made for thrilling tweets, and the Falconers’ fanbase was lapping up his every word, but it was also nerve-wracking. Bitty was going to need a large vodka after it was through.

He tried to catch Jack’s eye when they piled back onto the bench after the second break, but he had no chance. He had no idea what the coach had said to his players but there was a fierce determination in each of their eyes that was downright disconcerting. The Falconers were down by two, and it looked like they would do everything in their power to try and at least equalise in that last period.

It was a hard fight. Gloves were dropped yet again, and this time it was Jack who started it. It had all happened so quickly. One moment Jack was belting down the boards, the stick in his hands and the puck at his feet just a blur of colours, and the next a huge defenceman was slamming him so hard into the plexiglass it wobbled furiously in its frame. The force of it made Bitty grimace, and he didn’t miss Jack’s wince when the other player’s meaty shoulder crashed into his chest. That in itself wouldn’t be enough to make Jack lose it, but then the Schooner opened his big fat mouth.

Bitty didn’t hear what was said, but whatever it was made nearby Marty go pale and Guy’s usually stoic face was thunderous. Jack snapped. His stick clattered to the floor and his gloves followed soon after. Half a second later his fist smashed into the Schooner’s face so hard the crack echoed across the ice. The crowd roared around them, delighting in the fight as they grappled and snarled at each other. Before the referees or linesmen could even react, Marty and Guy had jumped to their captain’s defence and soon enough both teams were in a downright brawl.

It didn’t last long. The officials soon broke it up, tearing Jack and the Schooner apart like they were rabid dogs. Bitty had leapt out of his chair and watched the whole thing without taking a breath, his heart thudding fearfully in his chest. He had no idea what could be said that would make Jack flip like that, but the awful possibilities struck ice in his chest. He let out the breath he was holding when they were finally separated, though his stomach churned at the sight of Jack’s furious, bloody face.

Penalties were dished out to both teams but with only a few minutes left in the period, it made no difference. It was a bitter loss for the Falconers, and Bitty hated typing out the score to their loyal fanbase. The exact cause of the last fight was still unclear, but it was bad enough that a few players refused to even shake hands. Bitty closed his laptop, watching Jack lead his team down the line of Schooners. Jack’s face was indifferent, but the swollen lip and sore face was visible from across the ice. He shook the Schooner goalie’s hand, then instead of heading towards the locker room, he spun and glided in Bitty’s direction, removing his helmet as he did so.

The bruises were already blooming along his sharp cheekbones, and Bitty smiled sympathetically as he approached. He opened his mouth to console him about the loss, but the manic look in Jack’s wolfish eyes momentarily robbed him of words. Jack skated right over to the doorway and Bitty swung it open to meet him. His face looked even more battered up close, and Bitty felt a bit silly standing there in his smart suit when he saw the blood splattered like paint on the white of Jack’s jersey.

“Are you alright?” Bitty thought to ask eventually after a moment of silence. “What on earth did he say to you?”

They’d drawn a few curious gazes. It wasn’t often a player didn’t head straight back to the locker rooms, and the fact that it was Jack who had strayed from the norm was even stranger to the onlooking crowd. They were more or less the same height as Bitty perched on the edge of the step onto the ice, despite Jack wearing his skates.

“Can I kiss you?”

Jack’s voice was raspy, and it made Bitty’s gut churn pleasantly even before he processed what it was he was saying. When the words did finally register, his eyes went wide, and he looked at Jack like he was drunk. Did he hit his head out there?

“What?” He said eloquently, the word sticking like cotton wool to his tongue.

“Can I kiss you?” Jack repeated, sounding like his life depended on it.

It was irresponsible. Bitty was a colleague and they were in full view of players, fans, officials, even television cameras. And Jack was sweaty and bloody and gross but Bitty had never wanted him more than in that moment. He nodded numbly, his blood suddenly singing for Jack to crush their lips together.

“Yes?”

“Yes.”

Jack closed the distance in a heartbeat. Bitty desperately clutched the sleeves of his grimy jersey as their lips met, hard and clumsy. Jack dropped his stick with a clatter, and his large hands found their way to Bitty’s hips, squeezing them through the fabric of his dress pants. For those few, brief moments, the whole world seemed to disappear. Everything was reduced to one thing and that was Jack. Jack’s firm hands, Jack’s broad chest, Jack’s goddamn gorgeous mouth.

They broke apart and it all rushed back in around them. The crowd began to roar again, the heavy music blasted through the speakers, Jack’s teammates were yelling and wolf-whistling. They pulled apart and blinked at each other for a second, coming down from the blissful high. Bitty had barely gathered his wits together when Jack gave him a shy but dazzling grin.

“Come to my place tonight?”

It was more of an instruction rather than a request, and Bitty wasn’t even completely aware of saying it. He just knew if he didn’t get more of this silly, amazing man right now he was going to go insane. Jack laughed, the sound warming Bitty to the core, and he nodded. He squeezed Bitty’s hips one last time, then spun and headed back to his teammates. They all leapt on him at once, slapping his back cheerfully and rubbing his helmet like they were a bunch of frat boys, though that probably wasn’t far off. Bitty watched him go, feeling a million eyes on him and hearing cameras snapping and people muttering in awe. He didn’t care one bit and couldn’t smother his grin as he returned to his seat.

He was getting dicked real good tonight.

An hour later he found himself sinking into the pillows on his bed with his legs spread wide and his hands splayed in Jack’s messy hair. Jack’s mouth was as talented as he remembered, and the way he was working his tongue around his cock had Bitty seeing stars. His moans were loud and carefree as the searing hot pleasure mounted quicker than he could process it. He fought the urge to thrust madly into his mouth, his brain only just remembering that he was trying to savour it like a fine wine. Too bad Bitty was usually too eager for the buzz and downed his wine by the bottle. Right now, enjoying Jack was no different.

They hadn’t talked. Like a pair of lovesick teenagers, they’d sneakily met behind the arena and then hurried over to Bitty’s place in Jack’s truck, running many red lights in the process. It had been a miracle they made it in one piece, especially as Bitty could barely keep his hands off Jack the whole drive. He smelt shower fresh and the thrumming chemistry between them made his mouth water. As soon as they scrambled through the door they wasted no time, hands tearing at clothes and mouths crashing together in a tangle of teeth and tongues.

Soon enough, Bitty was sure he was about to fucking melt into a puddle right there, every nerve screaming for release. He whined and tugged on Jack’s hair, his breath coming heavy through his nose. If Jack sucked him any harder his soul would leave his body.

“Y-you gotta stop,” Bitty managed to gasp, his nails scratching Jack’s scalp. “Wanna come with you inside me.”

The words had an instant effect. Jack groaned around his dick, eliciting yet another strangled moan from Bitty’s hoarse throat. Jack pulled away with a damp pop, his lips deliciously red and swollen. His eyes were dark with desire as he took a moment to drink in the glorious sight of Bitty splayed out before him and practically begging to be fucked. A clumsy fumble in the side drawer found condoms and lube and he barely had time to coat his fingers before Bitty was dragging him in for a kiss.

Bitty was too impatient to allow Jack to prepare him thoroughly. He was strung way too high, the bliss prompted by Jack’s dedicated and careful fingers was maddening. His hands scrambled for purchase on Jack’s shoulders, just wanting _more, _so much _more, _and unable to convey it in anything other than breathless whimpers and shuddering mewls. They were both blistering hot already, and the sweat glistening across Jack’s collar was practically pornographic.

“Now, now, now!”

Jack didn’t need telling again. His fingers left Bitty feeling needy and empty, but he didn’t have to wait too long before they were replaced by Jack’s stiff, thick erection. His mouth fell open in a silent cry as he was stretched and filled agonisingly slowly. The sting was a momentary shot of sobriety, but it only made Bitty desire him all the more. A few seconds later he felt delightfully full to bursting, his ass hugging every inch of Jack’s thick cock like it wanted to squeeze the life out of him. The first thrust made him howl.

The rhythm was fast and slick. Jack pressed his face into the crook of Bitty’s neck, muffling his grunts and moans as his hips relentlessly rocked into him. Bitty’s feet left the bed and his legs curled around Jack’s huge body, dragging him close and driving him deep enough to make Bitty sob happily. A hand found purchase in Jack’s sweaty hair again, encouraging his lover to leave searing kisses and bites along his throat with every frantic snap of his hips. Jack worked a clumsy hand between them, finding Bitty’s aching dick and jerking it with the same desperation.

Bitty didn’t last long. A particularly hard slam against his prostate sparked his orgasm without warning and he didn’t just tumble over the edge, he threw himself into paradise. It was messy and erratic but blindingly and deliriously incredible. His brain blacked out and the sensations incinerated every inch of him from the inside out. Somewhere in the haze he registered Jack’s own climax striking hard like a white-hot branding iron.

It was a while before they both drifted down from the high. Jack collapsed to the side of them, his breath coming in ragged gasps like he’d just won a marathon. The cool air made them feel stickier than they already were. For a long moment they both just laid there, brains slowly gathering senses as their lungs recovered. Bitty laughed first, giddily and excitedly, and Jack soon followed, quieter but no less happy.

They didn’t speak as they cleaned up, but it wasn’t awkward. The chore didn’t take long, and they returned to bed with cool, clean sheets. Finally, Bitty turned to look at Jack, taking a moment to enjoy the delicious post-sex glow on his cheeks. The air was still a bit clammy, but Bitty couldn’t resist wriggling closer. His heart skipped a beat when Jack draped a heavy arm around him.

“So.”

“So.”

They burst into a fit of giggles.

Bitty decided they didn’t need words after all, and Jack obviously agreed. Instead, they tangled their bodies together, arms wrapping around chests and legs mingling with the other’s. Brown eyes found blue and for a while they just gazed at each other, admiring long lashes and freckles across a nose and cheekbones sharp enough to cut glass. It was an oddly profound moment, and Bitty couldn’t help but get a weird sense of déjà vu, like this had happened a hundred times before.

“Stay the night?” he whispered, his voice raspy after all the noise he’d made.

“Of course,” Jack said in a voice that didn’t leave any doubt. “Of course, I will.”

It had been a long time since Bitty had fallen asleep in anybody’s arms, but he did so without a problem. He nestled his head against Jack’s shoulder, enjoying the solid rise and fall of his chest. The bruises from the earlier checks were starting to bloom across the muscle, and Bitty traced them with delicate fingertips, lulling them both into a deep, contented sleep.

He awoke the next morning facing the wall, having tossed and turned a little during the night. It took a few moments for his brain to stumble through the sleepy fog and remember what had happened. There was a minute of elation as he remembered the frantic kiss at the arena and the amazing sex that had followed. But then it faltered, and he didn’t dare turn over, just in case he found an empty bed yet again.

But then the bed shifted with someone’s weight, and the joy returned so fast it made Bitty dizzy. He rolled over to find Jack giving him the most adorable, sleepy smile, his hair a rumpled mess and the pillows a haphazard mess beneath his head.

“Morning, Bits,” Jack grinned around a yawn. Bitty couldn’t resist leaning over to give him a very happy good morning kiss.

“Morning to you too, handsome,” he giggled against his lips. Jack’s arms curled around his waist and pulled him close to his bare chest.

“So, when do I get these waffles you promised me?” Jack smirked, nuzzling the shaved part of Bitty’s hair in a disgustingly cute manner.

“As soon as we have an action replay of last night’s sex.”

Bitty grinned wide and closed his eyes, fully intending to enjoy this silly, beautiful hockey player all morning.

Jack had stayed.

The End

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Big Bang 2019! I hope you enjoyed this year's contribution!
> 
> And how amazing is that artwork? Lily, thank you so much for creating such stunning pieces. It's been an honour working for you! You can find more of Lily's art work at Tumblr under the username Novva so be sure to check it out. You can also find me over there as effyeahzimbits!
> 
> As always, thanks for reading!


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